Expecting the Doctor's Baby (13 page)

He didn't exactly recoil, but his body swayed away from her. “This is a joke, right?”

“I'm not kidding.”

Finally he sat down. “A baby?”

“Yes,” she whispered, slowly lowering herself into her desk chair.

Right off the bat this wasn't going the way her fantasy had. She'd pictured his surprise turning to excitement, elation, unbridled joy. Then he'd pull her against him, lift her off her feet to swing her around, after which he would be properly horrified that he might have hurt her or the baby in his enthusiasm for fatherhood.

It was a cliché; it was stupid. But how she wished that's what he'd done. Considering the dark intensity in his expression, she would settle for shock instead of surprise, which would be an improvement over his current look. It wasn't at all happy. If she had to pick a label,
anger
came pretty close. His silent stare was making her crazy.

“Please say something.”

“You're sure?”

“I saw the doctor and she confirmed it.”

His eyes hardened as he shook his head. “I can't believe this.”

A subtle way of saying she was lying? It felt a lot like an accusation, like a blow to the chest, and seemed to knock the air from her lungs. She shook her head. “I swear, it's the truth.”

“This can't be happening—”

“It was just that one time. The first time—” Desire had been all-consuming. Nothing else had mattered except being with him. “We didn't use protection. Obviously you're shocked. I understand.”

His mouth thinned. “You couldn't possibly know how I feel.”

Sam knew he was thinking about how his ex-wife had betrayed him. At a time in his life when everyone had needed a piece of him she'd cheated and made a mockery of their marriage and left a scar on his heart.

“I didn't do this on purpose,” she said. “And I didn't do it all by myself.”

His gaze snapped to hers and, if possible, went even darker. “Oh?”

“No.” She folded her trembling hands together and put them on her desk. “You were there, too.”

“Yeah.”

“Were you thinking about protection?” she challenged.

“You'd been in a relationship. I figured you were on birth control.”

“
Was
in a relationship. Past tense. That night—With you—There wasn't much discussion about anything,” she said miserably. “You're just as responsible for this as I am.”

“I remember.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “What do you expect from me?”

Cold seemed to roll off him in waves and seeped clear through her, making her shiver. How she wanted the warm safe feeling back. “Excuse me?”

“I'm guessing you've suspected for a while.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Thanksgiving. You didn't eat much. No wine. You had symptoms, then, didn't you?”

“Yes, but—”

“And you didn't say anything. What kind of game are you playing?”

“This isn't a game, Mitch. Not to me.”

He shifted on the chair and leveled a glare at her. “Then why didn't you tell me sooner?”

“I'd planned to. On Thanksgiving. But you talked about your marriage and the bad stuff—”

“Is this a chick thing? Because that's no excuse.”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” she protested. “The timing was wrong. We'd had a nice holiday and I didn't want to spoil another one for you. I decided to wait until there was confirmation.”

“Now you have it. Is it mine?”

She'd just told him it was his, that she hadn't been on the pill, that he'd been there, too. Which meant he believed she was trying to deceive him. The heat of anger burned through her and it was almost a relief from the cold. “I can't believe you'd ask me that, you arrogant bastard.”

“It's a natural question.”

“Not for me. I know you went through a lot, but that doesn't give you the right to accuse me of something so ugly. I'm not like your ex. I don't lie. I'm carrying your child and I thought you had a right to know. My mistake.”

He stood and looked down at her. “So, I repeat. What do you expect from me?”

“Not a damn thing.” She stood, too, and met his gaze without wavering. “I said what I had to. Now get out of my office.”

Without another word he left.

Sam sank into her chair, shaking so badly that her legs wouldn't hold her up. This wasn't good for the baby, but she couldn't seem to stop. Some conflict coach she was. There were a dozen different ways she could have handled that situation. But as much as she believed in using the right words, the reality was nothing she'd said would have helped because she was incapable of being rational.

Against the odds and her better judgment, she'd fallen in love with Mitch Tenney. Under those circumstances, it was impossible to be logical.

T
he E.R. was too quiet.

Mitch lounged at the nurses' station feeling restless and uneasy. He much preferred being too busy because now he had time on his hands. Too much time to think about how he'd treated Sam when she'd told him she was pregnant. If he could have been a bigger ass, he wasn't sure how.

It had been a week since that day in her office, when she'd dropped the baby bomb. If she hadn't waited so long to give him the news, things might have gone better, but probably not. As if that wasn't bad enough, he'd implied she was trying to pass off another guy's baby as his.

The whole scene was like a train wreck that played in slow motion, over and over in his mind. He'd been deliberately acting like the arrogant ass she accused him of being before ordering him out of her office. He'd wanted out of there, but it was the last relieved breath he'd drawn in seven days.

He'd called her but she wouldn't talk to him. And why should she?

Mitch had felt rage and betrayal when his wife had told him the whole truth about what she'd done to their baby. But now he hated what happened even more because the unimaginable manipulation was responsible for his knee-jerk reaction and unjustified attack on Sam. She didn't deserve that.

He realized the computer keys behind him were quiet and Rhonda, the E.R. nurse/manager, was staring at him.

“What?” he said.

She folded her arms over her ample breasts. “You look terrible.”

“Thank you.”

“It wasn't a compliment,” she shot back. “And your attitude lately stinks.”

“If it wasn't politically incorrect, I'd say bite me.”

“See, that's what I mean.” Her brown eyes narrowed on him. “You were making progress in that area, but recently there's been a noticeable relapse. The mumbling to yourself is new.”

“And your point is?”

“What's going on with you, Mitch?”

Before he could tap-dance around the question, she looked down and reached for the pager at her waist. She met his gaze. “The paramedics called a few minutes ago. They just arrived with a pregnant woman. I'll go check it out.”

He nodded. “Let me know when I'm up.”

She disappeared down the hall and Mitch missed her acid tongue because he was all alone with his thoughts again. He sat down at the computer, but before he could go online, he heard someone behind him.

When he saw Rhonda, he said, “That was quick. False alarm?”

“It's Sam,” she said.

“What? With the paramedics?”

She nodded. “She's bleeding and—”

He didn't wait for more, but took off at a run and found her in trauma bay two. Half-sitting up in the bed, she had an IV going and looked pale, scared.

“Sam? What's wrong?”

The question was automatic and not the least bit professional. He didn't feel like a doctor; he was a guy concerned about a girl. After looking at her paperwork for pulse, respiration and blood pressure, the numbers danced in front of his eyes without sticking in his brain. The last notation was that the patient's physician would meet her at Mercy Medical.

“Mitch, I didn't mean to come here—” She ran her tongue over her lips. “I started spotting. I called Dr. Hamilton—”

“Why didn't you call
me?
”

Her eyes widened then were filled with hurt. “You're not my doctor.”

“You're pregnant with my child. You should have called me so I could—” He stopped. What could he do? Panic more than he was already?

He saw trauma patients all the time but he'd never lost it like he had just now. Sam wasn't just another patient. She was Sam. And she was pregnant with his child.

On the white cotton blanket covering her from the waist down, Sam's fingers curled into a fist. “I called
my
doctor, Mitch. Transport by ambulance was her way of being overly cautious. I tried to talk her into another E.R., but this is the closest—for her and me. She'll be here soon, so don't concern yourself with me.”

Don't concern himself? That advice was way too late. He was already concerned for her. “Did you fall?” When she shook her head, he asked, “Any cramping?”

“The bleeding just started. It's not that much, but I got scared—”

The door opened and Rebecca Hamilton walked in. Mitch had seen her in the E.R. before. She nodded at him. “Hi, Mitch.”

“Rebecca.” He ran his fingers through his hair.

“Hi, Sam. How are you feeling?”

Sam let out a relieved breath. “Hanging in there. The ambulance was great fun. There's nothing I like more than being the center of attention. It's even better when burly men carry you around.”

“Sass and sarcasm. Both positive signs.” Rebecca smiled. “The ambulance comes under the heading of better safe than sorry since you were planning to drive yourself to the E.R.—”

“What?” Mitch couldn't believe he'd heard right. Why hadn't she called him. “You're bleeding and you were going to drive yourself?”

Rebecca looked at him. “I can take it from here, Mitch.”

That was a subtle way of saying get the heck out. He shook his head. “Sam is my—We're—” He looked at Sam, but she showed no sign that she intended to bail him out. “It's my baby.”

“Good to know.” Rebecca nodded, but her doctor face never budged. “If you'll step outside, I'd like to take a look at my patient now.”

“Sam, let me—”

She shook her head. “I'd like to handle this privately, with my doctor.”

Both women stared at him and he finally walked out, but he paced the hall and wore a new path in the floor outside her door. It was killing him not to know what was going on in that room. A little knowledge was a dangerous thing. Pregnant women could have complications. What if something happened to Sam? Or the baby? God, he hated not being in control, not calling the shots. What if—

Before he could finish that thought, the door opened and Rebecca stood there. “Come on in, Mitch.”

He moved close to the bed and started to reach for Sam, but she curled her fingers into a fist again. He looked at Rebecca. “Is she all right, Doc?”

“The bleeding has stopped. That's a good sign.”

“And?”

“Sam's blood pressure is normal.”

“So what's going on with the baby? What caused the episode?”

“Sometimes early in a pregnancy it just happens. That doesn't necessarily mean there's anything wrong.”

“That's good.” He glanced at her but she wouldn't look at him. “So what now?

“Sam knows what to do.”

“I'd like to know, too.”

“Since when, Mitch?” Sam asked, her voice all sharp edges.

“She needs to take it easy,” Rebecca interjected. “Stay off her feet. Take care of herself and her baby. No stress.”

“Done,” he said.

“Wait a second.” Sam glared at him. “This isn't your call to make.”

“Watch me,” he said. “You're not lifting a finger until the doc says it's okay.”

“So now you're convinced it's your baby?” Sam asked.

He winced. She had a finely tuned sarcastic streak going, and it was aimed directly at him. Although he couldn't blame her. “I screwed up.”

“No?” She gasped, but it was exaggerated and mocking. “The mighty Mitch Tenney made a mistake and is actually admitting it? The world has gone mad.”

“Sam, take it easy—”

“The key here,” Rebecca said, “is rest and relaxation. Whatever tension is between you two needs to go on a back burner for now.”

“Excellent advice, Doctor,” Mitch said. “I will see to it that Sam gets all the R and R she can stand.”

“Good.” Rebecca smiled as if he'd just passed some kind of test, then reached for the pager hooked on the waistband of her pink scrubs. “Gotta go. I have a patient upstairs in labor and she's ready to have her baby.”

“I'm glad you didn't make a special trip here for me,” Sam said.

Mitch was pretty glad she'd been there, too, because he wouldn't have been much good. “Thanks, Rebecca.”

“Don't hesitate to call if you need anything.” She waved on her way out the door.

“So,” Mitch said, “I'll see about getting you signed out then I'll take you home.”

“Don't bother. I'll call someone—”

“No, you won't.”

“First of all you're working. You can't just leave.”

“It's a slow night. If it doesn't stay that way, one of the other guys in the group can cover the rest of my shift.”

The look she gave him was meant to intimidate but made her look more like a lost kitten. “I meant it when I said I don't want anything. Let's just agree to disagree and move forward. Separately. That's best for both of us—”

The door opened and Arnold Ryan stood there. Great, Mitch thought. It should have made him feel better that a bigger jerk than himself had just arrived. Funny how he just knew the situation was headed even further south.

“Samantha? What's going on?” Ryan demanded.

“Dad.” Sam pushed herself up a little higher in the bed. “What are you doing here?”

“I was in my office and got a call that you were in the E.R. Are you all right?”

“Yes.”

He looked at Mitch. “Tell me the feeling I have that you're somehow involved is completely wrong.”

“Dad, it's not what you think. I—”

“Don't tell me what I think,” he snapped.

So much for rest and relaxation, Mitch thought. “Look, Mr. Ryan, she needs to take it easy. Just give her a break—”

“Stay out of this, Doctor. It's between me and my daughter.”

And me, he thought. “I'm not going to stand here and watch you bully her. Give her a break or—”

“Stop,” Sam said. She looked up at him. “I'll handle this.”

“You need to rest,” he reminded her.

“Will someone kindly tell me what's going on?” Ryan demanded.

Sam looked at her father. “I'm here because I'm bleeding, Dad.”

He frowned. “Was there an accident? Samantha, you drive too fast. I've always told you to slow down—”

“There was no accident,” Mitch said, reading the irony of those words in Sam's eyes.

“I'm going to have a baby,” she said bluntly. “I was spotting, but the doctor was just here and says there's no reason to think there's a problem with the pregnancy. I just have to take it easy. And before you ask, Mitch is the father.”

It was the first time Mitch had ever seen Arnold Ryan shocked into silence. If only it would last.

Anger burned bright in the other man's eyes. “Samantha, I'm extraordinarily disappointed in you. I brought you up better than this.”

As a doctor Mitch had taken an oath to do no harm and he'd never wanted to break that vow more than he did now. “You're disappointed because she's pregnant? Or because she was with me?” he asked. “If Jax the jerk was the father would that make it okay?”

“He'd do the right thing by Samantha and marry her,” Ryan said, disapproval flashing in his eyes. “What are your intentions toward my daughter?”

“I don't think that's any of your business—”

Ryan took a step forward. “I'm making it my concern.”

“I would never hurt Sam.”

“You don't think getting her pregnant is hurting her—”

“Dad, please…”

He ignored her. “Don't make the mistake of thinking that this…personal involvement with my daughter will bulletproof your career, Dr. Tenney. You're still on probation and one false move—”

“Dad, this isn't the time.”

Ignoring her, Ryan continued his tirade. “If you so much as look at anyone the wrong way, you're gone, Doctor. Samantha is having a difficult enough time getting her life on track. Thanks to you, now she has to deal with this. I really don't—”

“Dad—” The sharpness of her voice got his attention and she took a deep breath. “I've had enough of you belittling me and my job. It stops right now.”

He looked genuinely shocked. “Samantha, you've never spoken to me that way before.”

“Then it's past time I did.” She met his gaze. “I need you to stop giving me orders. You can't tell me who to marry or what to do. I'm a grown woman. I'm going to be a mother. I'll be responsible for my child. You're going to be a grandfather and I want you to be a part of my life, but not if you tell me how to run it.”